The Winter King
Once upon a time, there was a land ruled by four kings. Although each king was very powerful, the duties of the king were such that they had to rest very often, and so the land was ruled by a different king for each of the seasons. The King of Springtime was a calm King, nurturing and kind, and the land would always grow while in his care. The King of Summer was hot tempered and impetuous, and yet entertaining and genial. To be in his graces was a fine thing indeed, but to be his enemy was the stuff of nightmares. The King in Autumn was an old king, and though he often looked tired, he had lost none of his majesty. Like an old tree, he was both a picture of strength and frailty at the same time. The Winter King was lonely, as cold as his imaginings and much feared. Ruling the kingdom in the harshest of conditions had made him formidable. A harsh task, and one with little thanks.
Spring was ending, and the king of Springtime had to make ready to take off his crown and rest until it was he was again called to his duty. As each king does when it is time to take off the crown, he worried. The four kings were very different men, and their rule reflected this. Although the Kingdom was not in poor condition, it was an uncertain place, where the atmosphere changed with the weather. The King in Springtime could not know what changes would befall his kingdom while he slept, nor could any of the kings. To change this, each king tried a different way of finding out what had happened to the kingdom in their absence. The King in Springtime asked his courtiers and servants for the news of the kingdom, but being deceivers and sycophants, they told the king only what he wanted to hear, hoping to take advantage of his pleasant nature. The King of Summer had tried to leave his confidants in the great halls, his eyes and ears, and when necessary, his voice. However, summer has no place in autumn, and is even less welcome in winter When he did not hear what he wanted, the King of Summer’s rage would burn like his sun, and he would receive no answer by pleas and trembling. Only in Spring was the summer servant’s voice to be heard, and even then it was only a whisper. The Autumn King had decided that the best measure of the kingdom in his absence was taken from the people, and so asked everyone in the kingdom to tell him what had happened. This did not work either, as each member of the Kingdom had a different story to tell, and the Autumn King was left in even more confusion than when he awoke. The Winter King had no advisors, no friends to apprise him of the state of the nation. He had only the snow, and the ice. Standing on his balcony, the Winter king sighed his loneliness into the winter air, and watched it catch and freeze. While gazing on his kingdom, he spied a robin, hidden amongst the snow and the ice, so small a creature, unphased by the rigours of Winter. “Such a small form!” he exclaimed, “To take such a small form would be as good as rest itself! And I would not have to leave my kingdom while the pure snow is banished!”
Springtime came once more, and the King in Springtime woke to a day of promise and rebirth. On reaching his balcony, the King in Springtime noticed a robin, perched and looking at him. “Hello my little friend! I see you have survived the winter. Why, if only you could speak! You could advise me on how best to rule this land after the dreadful grip of frost!” The King in Springtime took a liking to the small robin, and often found himself speaking to it of matters both great a small, until it was time for him to rest once more, and pass the crown to his arid brother, the King of Summer. The fiery monarch rose from his rest to find the robin staring at him as it had the King in Springtime. “Such an audacious little bird! HA! I like you!!” and it was so that the King of Summer also took to the robin, telling him all of the details of his day, right until the end of summer. The Autumn King was gentle and graceful, and one would be hard pressed to find any creature under the heavens that he could not grace. A wizened old King , the Autumn King recognised something in the robin immediately. “I see you” he said, smirking. “Very clever, my brother. Of us all, you are the youngest, but perhaps the wisest.” The Autumn king held out his finger, and the robin clutched on to it with its tiny feet, and listened hungrily to every word the Autumn King had to say, until, as sure as the sun rises and sets, the season changed yet again.
The Winter King assumed his form, and surveyed his perfect, frozen kingdom. He was tired, as he had not rested as much as he should have. However, from that day forward, the Winter King’s reign was looked forward to by the wise of the Kingdom, and his rule hailed as the most brilliant. Winter is a time of death, and solitude, when the cold threatens to crush everything in its way. The Winter King realised this, and so brought the other seasons to Winter. Spring, Summer and Autumn were all present in the rule of the Winter king, for beneath the frost, the world sleeps.